I wandered far from the beckoning lights,
in the company of banyan trees and shadows.
I wandered through Spanish moss-covered oaks,
and hazy moonlight, away from the distant glow.
I wandered down dim paths,
seeking lights to hold as my own.

The soft, sweet sorrow of reaching the utmost depths,
is nothing remains but to rise up.

A clink of glasses,
A round of cheer.
A new dawn,
A new year.

Libra, most charming of all signs,
finely balanced between the multitudes
and the skies hung low at night.
One dawn, a weight dropped, and the scales tipped.
A black funeral shroud, sending cracks up the prison wall.
She slipped gently to the other side.

Caged birds I carry around,
burdens from childhood.
Fierce eagles, slender egrets, exotic motmots,
imagined to life.
Slender bodies, brilliant feathers, piercing talons,
the weight of their splendid lives.
To soar on the power of their feathered wings,
to escape these rattling cages.
Better to open the door,
for peace at long last.
Would the silence fill my days,
reminding me that I,
once dreamed of beautiful creatures?

A blank page waiting for the first thought to land on my shores,
A splendid fall to claim as my own.
A permanent mark on the billowing scroll of time,
A start to the book of days.

Rising and falling on the smooth, swirling surface of a pin's head. Rotating slowly, winter, fall, summer and spring.
Grassy fields, and dark brick buildings,
I've known these places before.
The world surging forward, and falling back.
A long touch of time like a slow seduction,
backwards to the very root.
What was left, but glass bottles and new friends.
And a sense of sinking through the night,
to the soft glow of twilight I lived before.